


good times to follow

by starsflee



Category: Borderlands
Genre: Alcohol, Consensual Kink, Consensual Sex, Drug Use, Explicit Sexual Content, F/M, Foursome - F/M/M/M, M/M, Multi, Polyamory
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-09-03
Updated: 2016-09-05
Packaged: 2018-08-12 19:01:49
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 7,580
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7945639
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/starsflee/pseuds/starsflee
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>rhys isn't quite sure how he ended up in this big (<i>very big</i>) bed with <i> three<i> partners. this was not the night he was expecting, let alone the relationship that follows.</i></i></p>
            </blockquote>





	1. spilled drinks (from your guts)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning for vomiting.

Who knew one could dread waking up so much. 

Rhys’ eyes couldn’t open, he wouldn’t let them. His lashes stuck together and he could feel the dried crud on his lids. He was sweaty, sticky and just foul. He could feel it with every ounce of his being. Just a few more minutes of sleep...a few hours… eternity…

Matters became more pressing, however, when a flash of nausea raised, tickling the back of his throat in a sick manner.

Eyes popped open, the only real coherent thought Rhys had being ‘ _ Shit, shit, fuck, I’m gonna puke’. _

He tried to bound out of bed, but he realised he was in a kind of nest of blankets, pillows and… people? Warm arms draped around his middle and he could hear a heavy set of snoring filling the air as he tried to wrangle free. This was definitely not  _ his _ bed, and this was most certainly not his apartment.

He let the question of  _ where the ever loving fuck was he _ ring in his head as he spotted an open door to a room with a tiled floor. A small wish to hope to hell that was a bathroom, as that was where he was dashing, hand over his mouth to prevent any spilling.

Then it was all coming out. He was leaking out of almost every hole in his face, mouth, nose, eyes.  _ So gross. _ Luckily, Rhys had made it to a toilet. Ugh, another heave. How much could he even have in him? He was there for a while, stomach trying to inverse out his throat.

Once he was down to bile, it calmed,  _ slightly _ . He still felt sick as skag shit, but he could breathe now. He leaned his face against the rim of the seat, gasping for air and trying to calm everything down. His cheek against the toilet felt oddly cold, yes porcelain tends to be a cool temperature, but this felt colder than it should have.

It took a moment for his eyes to focus, blinking through tears that had formed, this toilet was oddly…  _ gilded. _

He leaned back. Rhys had just upchucked into a  _ golden toilet. _

In a panic, feeling like he had tarnished some holy ground, he grabbed toilet paper (that was way,  _ way _ too thick and soft) to wipe down the seat and flush away his sin. He started to lean backwards to skid away from the seat that was worth more than his whole net worth, but the hand he expected to hold him up was absent, sending him flopping to the floor.

His skin stuck to the tiles, his whole side. Running checklist at the moment, he didn't have his cybernetic arm attached and he was  _ naked _ .

Stumbling to his feet, he could take in his surroundings with more clarity. This bathroom was massive, larger than his apartment for sure (though that was not large to begin with).The decor was slick and modern, mostly blacks and golds. By the counter that held three large sinks was a massive mirror, climbing up to the vaulted ceilings. It took Rhys a long moment to even realize it was a mirror as the reflection looking back couldn't have been himself.

No, this figure mimicking his actions and coming closer to the wall of glass looked so disheveled, and not in a fashionable way. He was littered, no,  _ covered _ in red and purple marks, some yellowing around the edges. They looked like hickeys, and the sure as hell felt like them too as he pressed a finger to his skin. Dark, dark bags under the tired eyes looking back at him. Was that dust around his nose, clinging to the drippings that had come with his vomiting bout? Rhys walked to a sink and washed his face, trying to clear his face, skin, thoughts, everything.

The night before was a blur, but it was slowly starting to patch himself together.

It had been the evening of the semi-annual Hyperion dinner. Since Rhys’ recent promotion, he was now just important enough to receive an invite. The whole event was really just smoke and mirrors and he knew that. It was just about rubbing elbows, name dropping and searching for good dirt for the upcoming months to use as blackmail. However, the opportunity was too good not to go.

He remembered the suit he splurged to buy for the event, trying to look more important than he actually was. And damn, did he look fine. Yvette and Vaughn themselves not being able to hold back complements and how they wished they could go with him just to be his arm candy.

Rhys wondered where that suit was now.

After that, it was blotchy at best. He remembered lights that were not of that dining hall, and so many drinks of different kinds. He could still taste the remnants of them in his mouth. There was this memory of an overwhelming pleasure too, though he couldn't put in place what had actually happened at that moment.

He wasn't stupid, he must have hooked up with a higher up. Way, way higher up if they had a golden fucking toilet. Okay, he could deal with this. Just go out, find who it was, maybe even sneak back into bed and pretend he didn't just get sick and figure out his next move. Maybe this wasn't so bad after all…

He wondered out of the bathroom with quiet steps. The room before him was a mess. Still elegantly (and expensively) decorated, but lamps were on the floor. Clothes were everywhere as well as booze bottles. There was still no sign of his suit but he did spot a single brightly colored sock of his. It was a little confusing though, there was a set of bra and panties about but also boxers…  _ Was that a gun on the floor? _

A snore ripped through the room, startling Rhys out of his thoughts, line of sight jumping to the bed.

Oh.

There was not one, not two people waiting in that bed. That massive bed, bigger than a king size. That bed could have been used as a gymnastics mat, and at this point it very well could have with the night he was trying to recall. No, there was  _ three _ bodies in that bed.

That hair, well, two sets of it. Two sets of that hair. How could you miss that hair. That style, that wave, that slash of grey. In a pair.

Shit.

_ Holy fucking shit _ .

Forget climbing back into bed; Rhys needed to run his buck ass naked one armed self to the nearest escape shuttle. How?  _ How the hell did this happen? _

Before his legs could even move an inch, a head popped up from the mass on the bed, dark hair in wild strands, skin deep and a glorious shade that seemed to shine in the low light of the room. Eyes piercing and looking right at him. A smirk on lovely lips donned with smudged purple lipstick.

“Well, this is a good morning if you are the view. Pretty as a painting.”

Rhys flushed that seemed to cover his whole body. The other people in the bed stirred.

Too late to run.

_ Shit shit shit. _

Why didn’t he have a will? He was twenty-seven, that was a good thing to have. And at Hyperion for that matter. He hopped Vaughn and Yvette would take it all and not fight too much over who got what. Not that he had much…

Really? Was this his last thoughts in the land of the living? Who was going to get his sock collection?

“Good morning, indeed,” A voice said, gruff with sleep but still so distinguishable, Rhys eyes darting between all the faces, two of them being  _ the fucking same _ .

Another smirk, the one who had spoken looking at Rhys in an amused way. He must have been an open book for what he was thinking.

“It's good to see you, kitten.” The man said to Rhys.

_ Handsome Jack _ .

And, well,  _ other Handsome Jack? _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is the smut fic that has been rolling around my head for some time. It will probably be what I write in between [after the sirens](http://archiveofourown.org/works/7705486/chapters/17558113)
> 
> Should be an interesting time, trying to write sex between four people. This ot4 is def a guilty pleasure of mine, it's gonna be some interesting power dynamics. (Also, how the hell do you tag for 4 people relationships?? I tried every combo I could. ha)
> 
> I want to make sure that all that happens here is _safe sex_ , as much as it can be. I don't want to yuck any yums, but it's not my cup of tea for dub-con or non-con, and protection/proper lubrication will be mentioned as well as safe kink practices. I'm not an expert but I'm no beginner. Just a heads up, I suppose.
> 
> Enjoy my lovelies! ( ˘ ³˘)~♥
> 
> (ps. i love pretentious fic names and chapter titles, but it prob makes me seem like an asshole lol)


	2. let me know how that goes, will you?

“ _Will you hurry it up? I am already bored here._ ”

“Yeah, yeah. I get it, Nish. Look, I just gotta show up at this stupid dinner. Give the schmucks a speech they can jerk it to for the next six months and I will be right over.” Jack grumbled into his ECHO.

He hated these meetings, dinners, parties, _whatever,_ for the peons. It was all just a bunch of stuffy posers in their trying-too-hard suits looking to brown nose their way to a promotion. No one at these events was ever honest workers with real ambition (like Jack has). But he was like their _god_ so he would show up, spout some bullshit for morale or motivation and he was good for another half year. It put him in a sour mood, but he knew the plans for that evening would cheer him up.

“Is Timmy there yet or what?” He asked, taking long swift steps out of his office and down the hall.

“ _Oh,you know him. He’s gotta be primped and pretty for you, so he’s still getting ready._ ”

Jack huffed a short laugh, cute. “And I can assume you didn't even shower, Ms. Kadam?”

He could picture her wickedly sexy grin, _“Not a chance, Handsome. Still got some blood on me from the filthy Scavs down there. Just the way we like it.”_

He couldn't hold back his own smirk at the thought, “Half hour, tops. Then we can get this night going the _right way_.” Jack let his words drawl with a slightly gruff voice. Fuck, he was looking forward to this, had been for days. The call ended without much ceremony, Nisha never being one for the pleasantries of goodbyes.

In front of his personal fast travel station, he pulled his jacket straight. With a pop of his neck from side to side, he put on his best ‘I’m here to inspire your dumb asses’ face and punched in the destination on the machine to right in front of the hall.

The event was already in full swing as he was more than fashionably late. It was a quarter past eleven, but no one ever dared to leave after their dinner until Jack himself showed up. Most were already very un-humble about their intoxication.

He appeared out of his fast travel in a blur of blue and white, making people in the entryway of the dining hall jump and exclaim. His grin didn't falter, he was sure he heard a few glasses smash on the floor as he strode past them all. It sent an electrical tingle through his skin with the _power_ he held over these people. The tingle turned into a thrum as he thought about what was waiting for him after this.

Once in the hall, he snapped his fingers sharply, almost silencing the room as half a dozen servers rushed towards him with their trays of champagne flutes. Striding through the crowds like parting the seas, taking a large, _large_ drink of the sweet bubbly. Just the way he liked it. Good drinks and all eyes on him.

The only moving form made their way through the crowd, waltzing up to the CEO with clicking heels. “Glad to see you could make it, sir.” She said, planner notepad in hand as always.

“Meg, my girl, be honored I came at all!”

“Yes, honored,” Meg responded in a rather annoyed tone. She started to list off any notables that happened at the party that had started over three hours before. The crowd started to go back to their conversations, though much quieter than before. Jack’s eyes scanned the ocean of people.

“The chefs forgot to make the menu changes as required, so that will demand attention--”

Jack held up a hand, not having listened to a word directed his way, “Yeah, yeah awesome. Great. You got the cards with you?”

Meg sighed but pulled one out of her planner liner pocket. She pushed it between her fingers so the metallic printed typography on the fine paper glistened in the light.

“Good gal! I can always count on you!” Jack landed a large hand on his PA’s thin shoulder rather roughly. Meg just sighed again.

“Do you need the prepared speech, sir? I am assuming you would like to leave _as soon as possible._ ” Meg not being very impressed with Jack’s antics but used to them by now. All in all, though, he was an excellent CEO.

“Nah, babe, I got this.” Without further adieu, he strode to the front of the room to a stage, finishing his drink and tossing it over his shoulder without a care, thin glass shattering on the floor.

Jack didn't even have to call attention, everyone shutting up once again when they saw him take the platform. They gathered towards him like a school of small fish. Mouths agape and everything.

Clapping his hands together in a resounding echo in the hall, he started “I hope you all are enjoying the refreshments and this celebration of another great half.

“Now, I don’t want you to think this is time to take it easy. Hyperion is the most profitable than it ever has been, but we are not going to be content with staying at this success. More profit means more research, more projects.

"I need you all out there to be thinkers, people of action. Let’s push ourselves to better this company, there is no ceiling on this goal. There is always work to be done. Unless, of course, you enjoy floating in space on an airlock ride.”

There was laughter from the crowd, almost sounding canned and practiced. Jack smirked, “Heh, oh, do you think I’m joking? What’s that saying? You are only as strong as your weakest link? Well, I have got my eye on our weak links. Oh, don't worry, I’m not gonna name names. Save a few folks some searing embarrassment. Just know your progress is being watched. _Carefully_. If you enjoy oxygen in your lungs and your eyes not popping like grapes, you will damn well keep results coming. Sound like a plan?”

Silence, not even a mumble or a cough, “Perfect!” He clapped his hands together again, this time making many jump. “Now, don't feel down! I also know who the innovators are, the leaders of their teams. Again, no names, I don't need any of you to get to high on your horse. But there _are_ rewards for good work.

"So Hyperion, let’s keep up that good work, shall we? In six months, I want to be here celebrating again another exponential growth of my fair company! Do  _not_ let me down”

It was only a second before the silence from the people turned into cheering and applause. Apparently, they drank up bullshit. Yes, there was a handful that was doing good work as their manager positions and up, but most played dirty to get where they were. Not that Jack minded if it was profitable work, but there was a nice sized folder on his desk of all the people that needed to watch their asses or in six months time they would be frozen asses, floating in space.

“Great!” Jack said, enjoying the attention and applause, “Enjoy the drinks and food, all complimentary of yours truly, so you know it’s the good stuff.”

He didn’t bother with any kind of real closing, much like Nisha’s refusal to say hello or goodbye in conversation. He snatched another champaign flute on his way down the stairs, drinking most of it like a shot, caring very little as he let another glass smash.

Meg once again approached him, waiting. The whole speech he had been searching the crowd, and picked out his favorites and the ones he knew Nisha and Tim would favor. He pointed them out to his PA, who just nodded and took out an ECHO for background checks. Didn’t matter, Jack was almost skipping out of the hall to his fast travel, ignoring any who tried to get his attention for this reason or that. They had some gall to even think they were worth his time, mostly plump men with cheeks flush with drink. Handsome Jack had somewhere else to be, though, and he wasted no time.

He appeared in his penthouse, all the lights on and a bottle of wine open on the dining room table.

“Took your damn time. Tim’s already half drunk.” Jack turned to the voice, swelling with a sense of pride to see Nisha in his house in person after such a long stretch.

“Like that takes much to get him drunk,” Jack mumbled as he embraced her, speaking into the skin of her neck and taking in her scent. Gunpowder, copper, cigarettes and a sweet after sent that was a mix of her pheromones and the small blue flowers she was fond of (but would never say aloud, punching anyone who tried to make her admit it).

Nisha hummed, putting hands on his hips.

“Jack!” A voice that mimicked his own exclaimed, though inflection different in private. The pair didn't have a chance to look up before arms wrapped around them both. Tim was all smiles, peppering Jack with kisses, turning every so often to excitedly give one to Nisha. They both laughed at him a little.

“Welcome home,” Tim said when he finished, giving the group hug a squeeze.

Jack turned to hold Tim’s face in his hands, giving a deep kiss on the lips, pushing hard enough to make the man squeak. “Welcome home, baby boy.”

Tim was happily flustered. Nisha had a fond smile on her face. Jack was ecstatic to have his two favorite partners in his arms again.

The moment was broken when Nisha landed a firm, loud smack on Jack’s ass, making his grin turn wolf like.

“Come on, nights not getting any younger.” She pulled her men towards the door by their collars, then to the fast travel station.

“Oh _hell yes._ ”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Speeches are hard to write, especially as Handsome Jack. Sigh. 
> 
> This chapter title makes no sense ¯\\_(ツ)_/¯
> 
> ❤


	3. ticket to fortune

Rhys was enjoying his drink, though not nearly as much as his peers. He had some sense in his head to not want to let his guard down. These were not his friends, and he would let them all make fools of themselves.

It was a good night overall. Amazing food, great drinks, fairly good company. He got to see  _ The _ Handsome Jack, more than just in passing as he had in the past. That had made the evening, along with a very  _ interesting _ rumor about Vasquez that he would hold close to his chest until just the right moment.

As he was poking around a buffet table with a seemingly mile long display of finger foods, becoming quite fond of the little cakes coated in white chocolate and a strawberry drizzle, he felt a tap on his shoulder.

He turned, mouth full of the sweet, to see a woman with shoulder length brown, wavy hair. Her eyes were large but rather tired looking, like she had been on her feet for hours. Rhys knew who she was, even though they had never meet .He was sure that she, infact, had been running around all day. Being Handsome Jack’s PA was not a quiet position.

The realization of who she was though made him cough on the desert in his mouth, he had to stifle the sound with his hand as he worked to gulp down what he had been eating. Meg waited for his bout to end, with a slight raised eyebrow.

“Y-yes?” Rhys sputtered rather hoarsely, a wonder in his mind on why she would be talking to him.

“I was told to give you this. Please follow the directions and be punctual.” Her well-manicured nails had a card between her fingers.

The card itself was extravagant, paper with a rich texture, thick and black. The lettering was a flowing script that glinted in the low light with its golden metallic shine.

In all its extravagance, though, it simply said, ‘ _ 12pm, South Sector-C Elevator. _ ’

“Wait, what is this?”

It was too late, though. While he had been gaping at the card, he hadn't heard the click of heels leaving him just as fast as they approached him. His eyes darted about, taking a good few moments before he found her in the crowds, dissipating slowly after Handsome Jack had left.

He watched her give the same kind of card to a beautiful woman in a red dress, hugging her curves. And there was another, again, strikingly dazzling. Rhys watched about half a dozen people receive the card, all being stunningly attractive. Well, appearance wise, as he knew for a fact that a good few of them had some ugly personality traits that made them unappealing to Rhys himself. The women who received the card seemed very excited about the fact they had, turning to exclaim with their friends.

He stared at the card in his hand, drinking down the rest of his champagne in a single gulp. Metal fingers flipped it over, but the back just held the Hyperion logo in the same gold. Obviously, he was missing something. Should he be excited about this? What even was this invitation? It seemed more ominous than welcoming. Isnt this what killers did? Hand out elegant and expensive looking cards to go to an elevator in a higher position sector on Helios?

Curiosity was burning him, perhaps he should have been more wary but Rhys felt a thrill at this mystery. A glance with his ECHO eye told him the time, he had a good half hour before the meeting time.

None the less, he started his walk out of the hall and out to the sector. It would take a good few minutes to just walk there, he supposed he could have called a transport but he wasn't in a large rush.

On his way, passing lines of closed stores and open coffee shops, then passed large doors that led to office sectors, Rhys pondered over what the card could mean. Why was it only given to him and then women by Handsome Jack’s PA? All of whom were all very aesthetically pleasing to look at. It wasn't like Rhys himself didn't think he was attractive to others, but sometimes he felt rather plain. The cybernetic arm and ECHO eye usually caught people’s attention, but not always in the right way.

After about a twenty minute stroll, mind bouncing off of anything from a kidnapping to some sort of lottery they had won though none of his guesses really felt right to him, Rhys was in front of the elevator.

Since they were in a sector that was more for higher ups, though not quite exclusive (as only a select handful of people could even get into that area) the elevator was fancier than what he was used to. This was no grey metal box to shove people into. The doors looked of a brass color, the buttons looking clean, well designed and very inviting to push. So Rhys did, even though he was about 10 minutes early.

Nothing happened.

No ding, it didn't light up, the whole machine made no sound to show it was moving his way.

Strange, was it broken? This was the elevator he was supposed to be at right? He looked around. The area was dim with soft yellow light, only because it was after hours. Rhys wondered if this is what it feels like to be waiting under street lamps for… well, a door to open.

He made his way to the opposite wall to lean on, readjusting his tie and running a hand through his hair. Keeping a constant display of the time in the corner of his vision, he watched the seconds roll into minutes. His hand started to grow clammy with sweat, bouncing from foot to foot.

It started quiet, but he heard footsteps approaching. Suddenly, he didn't feel so confident about his choice to come, straightening up and his body getting ready for fight-or-flight.

Only a few seconds and they rounded the corner, chatting animatedly and tall stilettos clicking on the floor. The other people who had received the card, though it took him a good moment to recognize them. He had only ever seen them in office attire or formal wear for events. They now looked like their were going to a club. If he wasn't a sore thumb before, he certainly was now, still in his black suit with orange pinstripes.

“ _ Rhys _ ? Middle manager of data mining? What are  _ you _ doing here?” One of them said to him as they got close enough, “Why are you dressed like that?”

He wanted to feel embarrassed but her tone with him was a snarky one, as if she should have been looking down her nose at him while she spoke. Luckily, Rhys was taller and even in her heels she didn't get the pleasure. Instead he stood bold, crossing his arms.

“If you must know, Carol from office management, I was invited.”

“What?” Another said, “You got a card? Really?” She, being Lisa from the coordination sector,  didn't seem quite as snobby as Carol had been, being more surprised than anything.

Before he could reply, the doors in front of them opened to the elevator. Checking the clock for a second it said it was now midnight.

“Go, go, go!” Carol exclaimed, the handful of women clamboring in like it was an emergency. They bumped elbows with each other and stumbled over their feet. Rhys didn't take his sweet time to get in but he didn't panic like they had.

For a while they all just stood there, doors still open and longer than it normally would. The women were hyped with excited energy, chatting to themselves.

Rhys didn't turn to look at them, staring straight ahead and out of the elevator as the doors stayed open. No one moved to push any of the buttons, and it wasn’t like Rhys knew what to do. “Where are we going?” He asked, trying to still sound confident and not as nervous as he actually was.

“Oh my god, he doesn't even know!” Carol exclaimed, cackling. A few of the others snickered, but Lisa hushed them.

“Stop, it’s not like it’s well known. I think we only heard about it from Mary Wells.”

“Mary Wells?” Rhys said softly, turning to look at Lisa. That was someone Rhys had known, as they worked in office sectors next to each other. They used to get coffee at the same time, nodding at each other as they passed. They had never spoken, he only knew the name from her badge. That was, until she just disappeared one day, never coming back.

Carol snorted a laugh, “Yeah, I bet she was a bad lay, that's why she got ejected into space.”

Lisa continued, “Rhys, we have all been invited to--”

The doors of the elevator started to close, making Rhys jump a little.

“Wait!” A voice down the hall shouted, shoes loud on the floor as the wearer ran towards the lift. “Hold the door!”

Rhys reached out to put a hand on the doors to try and stop them, but it didn't seem to even notice. After a moment too long, Carol slapped his arm away. The girl outside skidded in front of the door, panting and watched as it closed in front of her, a last glimpse at the group inside. She slammed on the door, shouting to let her in.

One of them moved to the ‘open door’ button, but Carol snapped, “Don't you dare, the less competition the better.” The other nodded, commenting on how that was true.

“Competition for what?” Rhys said shortly, frustrations growing with this mystery he was being left out on.

Carol smirked, “Why, we are going to Handsome Jack’s personal bar and party.”

Slowly, his gaze went from Carol’s to the closed doors before him, eyes wide. His heart started pounding in his ears.

The elevator started ascending, and Rhys wasn't sure if this was the best moment in his life or the last.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm not super fond of having random non-canon characters in here but there is no one I really want to put in the shoes of these women, also since they will not be important later. I dunno.
> 
> One more chapter today and I'm goin' to bed. Enjoy lovelies.


	4. they don't know what they're missing

They could hear the music long before the elevator even stopped. Dance music with loud beats and low bass. Rhys had never been this high up Helios, he watched the number climb and climb. Just  _ how _ high were they going to go? How many floors did Hyperion even have anyway?

Rhys had zoned way out, not paying attention to the women in the lift chatting animatedly, the dance music muffled in his ears.

_ Handsome Jack’s private party? _

How the hell did he manage that? He wasn’t in a super important position, though he supposed some of the girls were about the same on the ladder as he was. Comparatively, he didn't think he was on the quite the same attractiveness scale as the others. He was a solid 7, not bad by any means, but these ladies were 9s and 10s. This was also  _ Handsome Jack _ , who was broke that attractiveness scale by blowing the lid right off of it.

Oh gosh, Rhys brought a hand to his mouth, cheeks flushing. Did...did Handsome Jack  _ pick _ him? Rhys could die happy thinking that, even if this whole thing was a lie or scam or some plot to murder them all.

It was probably very cliche. Handsome Jack was his hero. Rhys always wanted to work for a large corporation, and Hyperion was the largest. He had lived through hell with internships with Vaughn. They drug their bodies through all the shit that was tossed at them, ass kissing all the way. With Yvette, they had worked on a deal, a solid one, and one that got him to where he was now. The ass kissing wasn’t done, but even with all the blood on his hands, (metaphorical or not) he was proud of what he had done. What they had done. Handsome Jack inspiring him once he took over the company, right when it was at a low point and Rhys was losing motivation for his goals. Handsome Jack came in like a hurricane, and things got done.

Oh god, oh goodness.  _ Holy fuck _ . Was he going to actually  _ meet _ Handsome Jack?

The elevator slowed, eventually stopping with a ding. As the sliding doors opened, the muted music flowed through the gap, shaking the floor slightly. There was a long hall before them, tiled elegantly with expensive wallpaper that looked like it had velvet patterns and gold stitches. A square foot of the stuff could pay for both himself, Yvette and Vaughn to live for a few months.

The women pushed passed Rhys to dash to the door, stopping in front of a large, intimidating looking man. Rhys followed, in awe. This was all so surreal, the extravagance of it all. The hall was lit with a purple rim light as the neon of the sign. It was also filled with people, all lined up by the door. Rhys was hesitant to follow the women to the bouncer, worried about cutting before so many people. But… He had been personally invited? Not  _ directly, _ but… close enough?

He caught up to the group. The man guarding the door seemed to have cybernetic limbs as well, though not a friendly enough expression to make Rhys want to try and bond with him over it.

“Name?” The bouncer said in a deep tone, vibrating Rhys bones almost as much as the music.

Carol stepped forward first, though not after ‘adjusting’ her bra to make sure she was perky enough. “Carol MacErie.”

She was scanned with the bouncers ECHO implant, causing her to falter slightly. “Invitation?”

“Oh.” She took a moment to dig in her cleavage, pulling out a smallish clutch, when she pulled the card out.

It only took a glance, but the bouncer let her in with a nod and lifting the rope.

“Wait-wait.” One of the ladies started, “We needed to  _ bring  _ the card? I-I left it at home when I was getting ready!”

“No invitation, no entry.”

She scrambled forward, reaching for his arm in a panic, “No, no I’m on the list, right? It’s Karen, Karen Little, from Specialties. I’m the head manager! Just-Just check, okay?”

He flinched off her small hand on his large arm like a horse would flick off a fly on their skin, repeating, “ _ No invitation, no entry.” _

The poor girl tried to reason with the bouncer, but it only took a nod of his head and guards appearing seemingly out of the woodwork to escort her away. They were not being rough or violent with her, but she grew more and more frantic the further away she got. Rhys watched her struggle and scream until she was out of sight.

“Name?” Rhys snapped his head, looking up. This question was directed at him.

“It-it’s Rhys.”

The man's expression morphed slightly, amused as he raised a brow, “Just  _ Rhys _ ?”

“I, uh--” He was cut off by the scan, a little alert popping up on his own ECHO eye to informing him it was happening. He closed it quickly, trying to compose himself.

“Invitation?”

The card had never left his person since he received it, pulling it out of his suit jacket pocket and showing it to the bouncer. A nod and a rope lift,

“Enjoy yourself in there, kid.” A deep voice told him as he walked past the man, causing Rhys to shudder.

People lined the hallway as he made his way to the main door, people making out. People smoking, people popping pills and snorting things out of small containers. No one even looked at him as he walked by, the light low, neon in shades of purples, pinks, and blues.

Reaching the door, Rhys hesitated. This was a world he had never been a part of, and maybe never will again. He had no way of knowing what awaited him, and what he was prepared to do in a reaction.

Outstretching his hand to push the doors open, he shrieked when they flung open themselves, almost smashing him right in the nose. A couple pushed by him rather roughly, not even noticing her was there. They stumbled past hanging onto each other like their lives depended on it.

Alright, another breath and he just pushed through, stepping to the club.

The music was loud, every beat going through his ears and down to his toes. Lights were flashing, still the same color palette and making the room seem hazy. The air was thick with smoke, from people and machines.

There were dancers in cages, not wearing a thing at all. Servers waltzed around in the same, carrying drinks to lounge areas of large plush couches and chairs. People were dancing, grinding to the music and their own self-made tempos.

Rhys scanned the people, trying to pick out faces with the limited visibility. He could pick out many, not that any would know him, but from Hyperion magazines. There were models, VP’s and stars from all over the galaxy here.

How did he get here again? Suddenly Rhys was feeling like a very tiny fish in this big pond, more like of a speck of algae than anything.

A beautiful young man walked towards him, offering a drink. Rhys tried to thank him, but they turned off quickly once the drink was in his hand. His voice didn't even carry but a few inches before it was swallowed by the sound.

There was a buzz, electricity in the air that even with Rhys’ adrenaline, he was excited.

He took the drink, small and bright yellow. With a slight shrug, he downed it in one go.

Rhys was here and he would make the most of it.

 

\--

 

“Anything?” Jack asked, Tim in his lap, looking out over Jack’s shoulder on their balcony lounge to the mass of bodies below. Jack’s hand was under the man’s shirt, rubbing the skin up and down slowly.

Tim hummed thoughtfully, taking a moment to grind down on the lap he was perched upon.

“What about her?” Nisha asked, drink in one hand and the other on Jack’s knee. Her nails would drag across the fabric every few moments.

“Who?” Tim asked, trying to pinpoint where Nisha had nodded.

“Red mini skirt has a nice rack.”

He pondered for a moment, then shook his head. “Nah, she looks like a bitch.”

“Timmy, language!” Jack said, tone playful as he slapped the man’s ass.

“Really, don’t be misogynistic.” Nisha chipped in, slapping the other cheek. Tim hummed again with a deep breath, enjoying the sore feeling their hands had left.

“Come on, Tim, pick. I’m getting bored over here.” Jack spoke right into his doppelgangers ear, nipping at the lobe.

Nisha laughed, finishing her drink and waving the glass at a server waiting on just the three of them, “He always was the fussy one.”

“Oh, I’m sorry! I enjoy a little charm to my fucks. Not that you two don't have enough for this whole space station.” He had a smile on his face the whole time, still looking over the people below.

“That's true. When Jack picked last, she just starfished and moaned weird. Where is the fun in that?”

“I resent that! She had an  _ amazing _ body.”

“Yeah, and a personality like a piece of cork.”

Jack huffed, pulling a fake pout that Nisha just gently slapped off his face. He laughed, “Maybe it's a bust since Mr. Picky here can’t make up his mind. We still can have a good time with just us.”

“Wait, wait! What about him?” Tim said, pointing rather blatantly. He was more than a little buzzed and it showed clearly.

Nisha followed the gesture, raising an eyebrow. “You sure? He looks like a twink. Not even the fun kind. I could break him with a finger.”

“Yes, yes, please? Can we at least go check him out?”

Jack turned to look at who they were talking about, letting out a low whistle. “I didn’t know you were so into the legs for days type. I thought you liked some with a little more  _ beef _ .” He pinched Tim’s side.

“Okay,  _ yes _ . Wilhelm and I fuck sometimes, but it’s not like he’s the only type I like. I mean, look at you, not beefy at  _ all _ .”

Jack playfully tossed Tim off of himself to the rest of the couch, the man giggling all the way. “Oh, I’m gonna make you pay for that, kitten.”

Tim stopped laughing long enough to look up at Jack with hooded eyes. “Yes, please  _ sir. _ ”

Nisha downed her fresh drink, tugging on her men’s hair to get them up and off the couch.

“Let’s go give this boy a look over, hmm? Come on, follow me.”

The boys were on their feet, smiles on their faces and a ‘Yes Ma’am’ on their lips.

 

\--

 

The drinks here were strong. Rhys had had three so far, and they sat on top of the champagne from before. Each drink had been a different color, a different flavor, but delicious all the same. Whenever he was spotted without a full glass in his hand, a server would appear beside him to offer a new one. It was so tempting to try and taste all the flavors that were doned on the trays.

His limbs started to sway to the music, becoming loose. Social anxiety was fading away, more pressing needs coming to the front. Like how he wanted to dance and have some contact with these  _ beautiful _ people.

He finished his drink, his fourth, placing it down at some point as he made it to the dance floor. The drinks here were  _ very _ strong. Just making it there seemed like an eternity, legs more unsteady than he liked, but then Rhys was melding with the other dancers to the music.

There was no time until random hands were on him, gentle caresses. He couldn't even pick out the faces, people moving around him like a fluid. He puffed a little at the attention, even from strangers.

“Hey there, pretty boy.” A clear voice said right into his ear. Rhys turned to look into amber eyes, so striking. Purple lipstick on full lips that were shaped into a smirk. He hadn't even realized he was gaping until she brought up a sharp fingernail to close his mouth.

_ Oh god, step on me, please. _

Well. Thats new.

She draped her arms over his shoulders, pulling him in close. Shifting from side to side, nails grazing over the back of his neck, her chest flush with Rhys’ own. Rhys dared to put hands on her hips, her smirk growing wider. How sexy could a smirk even be?

They danced for a few moments, Rhys just plain lost in her features. She was so beautiful but so raw. So real. Even in the thick air, he could swear he smelled blood on her if the specks on her face and clothing were what he thought it was. He was surprised how that thought sent a flash down his core and to his dick.

Another pair of arms, thicker, larger and broader came up from behind the pair. They ghosted over his neck and then down his chest. Rhys sighed as a thick body pressed behind him, leaning into it and pulling the lady before him closer. The hands made it to his hips, suddenly gripping tightly and pulled his ass close to a crotch. Maybe Rhys made a sound at that moment, a small desperate moan, but he would never admit that.

The woman leaned in close, causing Rhys to hitch his breath, but he leaned over his shoulder until he could feel another face beside him. This close he couldn't make out who it was, but he could feel strong, sharp features against his own.

“You were right, he is cute.” She said.

“You should listen to me more often, Ma’am.”  _ He _ said.

That voice, so familiar. He had heard it before. Like echoing the halls, like from the radio, from television. It was a big voice, important. Like a voice, he had heard giving a speech only a few hours before.

Sober Rhys maybe would have been able to connect the dots, but all the drinks he had before were catching up. Drunk Rhys only knew that it was the best sounding voice he had ever heard. Deep and he could feel it rumble against his back, even through the pounding music.

Rhys preened a little, relishing the attention. A nail ran down his cheek, making him open his eyes that he hadn't even noticed he had closed.

“You like that, sweet thing?” She purred.

Rhys nodded, feeling lips brush against his neck. They didn't quite reach the right area, the dip of his neck, so he dipped his head back to rest on a broad shoulder, a few inches shorter than he was.

Gosh, this was so nice, he felt so good. The hands wandered, just oh so light but then a little rough. Fuck,  _ so good. _

He almost didn't notice another set of hands joining, running through his hair, down his neck, then reaching to slip to his ass that was still close to a grinding crotch.

That voice was saying something again, he was almost in a haze to catch the first few words. He had to open his eyes again, and he blinked.

The bodies kept him moving because he was not sure he could at the moment. They might even have to breathe for him too soon because his eyes were locked right into  _ his _ eyes. The eyes that could be seen all over the space station, the green and blue.

_ Those _ eyes.  _ That _ voice.

_ His  _ hands were on Rhys.

Rhys didn't even notice he was smiling until the expression was being mirrored. Standing behind the glorious woman in front of him, the pair looking right at him, was Handsome Jack.

He was dead. He had to be. Or dreaming. How was this possible.

They all danced the four of them. Rhys often thought to turn and see who was behind him, but his eyes were locked on the CEO’s who was also locked onto him. Handsome Jack moved to mouth, kiss, and nip at the woman’s neck, but the whole time his whole visual attention was on Rhys.

Rhys didn’t know it could be this hot to watch his hero give hickies to another.

Their gaze was only broken when large warm hands from behind moved Rhys’ head, lips grazing his jaw and cheek on the journey to his lips. Rhys opened willingly, his hooded gaze seeing the pair of heteroaromatic that were hooded as well. How did the man behind him have eyes like Handsome Jack’s too…?

As he made out with the man behind him, his gaze darted back and forth between the faces around him.

“Do you think he’s figuring it out?” The woman said to Jack, hand grazing his face that was clamped to her neck.

The kiss broke, Rhys panting harder then he should have been for a short make out. But  _ fuck _ this was hot.

The voice behind him spoke in his ear, that voice.  _ His _ voice. “Come have a drink with us, beautiful?”

Not even a pause, Rhys nodded and let himself be led away to the balcony lounge.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Woop. Here we go.
> 
> I hope it didn't get too confusing, Tim not being formally introduced so he's nameless so far, and Rhys didn't even get a proper look at him yet.
> 
> Also, Tim won't always be this bubbly, he's just drunk and happy to be back at Helios. (He will still be Tim, but right now it's a little much to be his personality always XD )
> 
> Enjoy <3


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